Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Wells
Honestly, it didn’t take long to find Bow’s professor.
Again, he had dinner with our parents, so I knew about him.
He was a man of influence and only taught because he was a scholar.
He was a man dedicated to a life of research, and because of that, he had a lot of clout.
He also had a lot of money and came from a long line of scholars which was why he knew our parents.
They all often attended benefits together, and my parents even donated to some of the grants that funded this fucker’s research.
All our parents had.
Which meant that I knew how to find him.
This guy had access to Bow. He did in so many fucking ways, and Bow hadn’t been the fool. She’d been her trusting and kind self.
He let us right in.
Well, his maid had, and my friends and I found this fucker in front of his fireplace. He was a brunette with perfectly coiffed hair. He had a bottle of vodka beside him, no glass. Like he’d been drinking something away, his fears maybe. Maybe he knew my friends and I would ultimately come for him.
He didn’t even fight.
We stood in front of him now, all my buddies and I.
We dragged this guy in his velvet robe and matching slippers into the woods behind his house.
He lived on the outskirts of Pembroke’s campus.
The woods known as Grimwood Hollow were known for being a labyrinthine.
In fact, hikers got lost out there all the time, and even attacked by coyotes and mountain lions.
There were five animals here now, but only one monster.
Bow told us she recognized him from the parking lot when no one else had.
Shit, no one had even caught a plate on the person who almost ran her and Sloane over.
My friends and I had asked around. We were also well connected to the university, so we knew the school was conducting an investigation.
Our intel let us know even the authorities had no leads on the person yet though. The driver had gotten away, went ghost.
But even ghosts could be found.
They could be found by the grim reaper, and I watched as Thatcher threw this guy into the leaves. His name was Patrick Donovan, and the fucker squirmed when he stumbled to the ground. He was obviously drunk off his ass, but he didn’t bother running.
My friends and I surrounded Donovan. It was Dorian who squatted in front of the man. My friend D had no problem getting a little blood on his hands.
None of us did.
Someone else had messed with Bow once in high school. It’d been one of her teachers, and I’d taken care of that shit then. I had the scars to prove it. That fucker had lived, but that was only because he’d been fortunate that I took care of his ass before he could hurt Bow.
Donovan wasn’t fortunate.
Dorian’s expression was deadpan. “He has to die.”
I knew he meant it. I knew for a fact he hadn’t killed anyone before, but he’d come close a time or two.
Even still, I knew Dorian would have no problem taking a life. All my friends and I had been through some dark shit. It was like a blanket of bullshit had surrounded us from birth. We all had various reasons why and mine surrounded Bow.
Something happened to me the moment I allowed that girl at the pool to drown. It changed something in me and I hurt the one person who never ever should have received the fallout from it.
I’d spend my life trying to make it up to the woman I loved, and, even though I wasn’t worthy of her, I’d damn well try to do right by her.
Donovan was on his back in front of Dorian.
He came from a long line of scholars and his family had almost as many buildings named after him on campus as my friends and I had.
Almost.
I knew it would have taken the right kind of fucker to mess with Bow. It’d take an arrogant fucker to mess with what was mine.
Ours.
Bru squeezed my arm, looking at the filth on the ground, and Donovan’s eyes widened after what Dorian said. Dorian had some stake in this too even if this guy hadn’t messed with Bow. Donovan almost ran Dorian’s fiancée over too.
My boy Dorian was engaged; he told us about it at the football stadium earlier that day. That was probably the last time we all got to be kids before the next leg of our lives took over. My friends and I were brothers through and through.
Donovan lifted his hands, trembling. He may have known something would happen after messing with Bow, but he obviously was still coming to terms with things. Donovan gripped the leaves. “You don’t mean that.”
He thought Dorian was bluffing.
Donovan’s throat jumped. “Now, come on, boys. All of you can stop this right now. I will make sure no words about what you’ve done so far will be spoken. Nothing will come from—”
Slap.
That was right. Thatcher, a huge-ass dude who could tackle a motherfucker, had slapped this guy.
Like a bitch.
Donovan was lucky it hadn’t been a punch, and he was so shocked by the slap he rubbed his face.
“You don’t talk,” Thatcher said, shaking. I knew it was taking everything in him not to do something more. Bru and I had told him everything surrounding Donovan’s coercion as well as the stalking that occurred after. That Bow offered to tutor me in hopes the guy wouldn’t come around anymore.
Thatcher also knew about the baby. All my friends did, once Bow had given us permission to tell them, which was why my buddies had no problem coming to get this guy.
Thatcher inched toward Donovan, but Dorian held him back. Dorian was normally the voice of reason and the leader to all of us, but even he said this guy had to die.
“He does have to die,” Thatcher said, and Donovan’s eyes widened again. Thatcher’s jaw clenched. “For my sister.”
“And mine,” Ares said. He was holding Thatcher back by the other arm.
Whatever Dorian did, Ares “Wolf” Mallick followed.
We all did. Even still, Wolf was holding back too.
He braced his fist. Donovan had almost killed Sloane too in all this, and Ares had just as much rage lacing his already wolfish features.
Ares’s eyes narrowed. “This fucker sealed his fate.”
It was an understanding between all of us. Especially for Bru and me. Oddly enough, I was the one holding Bru back.
I’d never seen the kid so charged up. Bru, ironically enough, had been introduced to violence more than all of us. Despite that, he was just as kind and good as Rainbow Reed. Unfortunately, life had kicked Bru in the teeth more. I knew for a fact Bru Sloane-Mallick could take a life.
Because he had before.
I saw that rage in his eyes too, that capability. Bru wet his lips. “It’s up to her,” he said, then faced me. He nodded.
I did too.
Bru and I had come to an agreement after we left the hospital. The idea had been proposed by me, but he quickly agreed. He did because he loved me, and I knew I’d never be deserving of that love. I wouldn’t, but I was taking it. I needed his love.
I needed it just like I needed Bow’s.
Her love made both of us better, and it made me stronger.
“She’ll decide,” I told my friends. Swallowing, I placed my hand on Bru’s neck. “She’ll decide.”
I spent years dictating things in Rainbow Reed’s life. I played with her like a little puppet, just like Donovan had. I manipulated her.
“I’m so sorry, Wells,” she’d said to me at the hospital between fits of fallen tears. She cried so much. So damn much because of things I’d allowed to happen to her. She looked up at me. “He made me hate you. He said I let you bully me. I let you use me and I needed to take something for myself.”
That was how Donovan had ultimately gotten to her. He made her stand up for herself, take something back, but it hadn’t been for her. It’d been for him.
“It’s up to Bow,” I clarified but not for my friends. They all knew why we were here today. We were here for Bow, and no one would speak on Donovan’s fate but her. She would get to decide something for herself.
I’d make sure.